Yesterday & Today
by airyjane
Summary: After the pressure of school gets seventeen year old Charlotte Abbey down, she finds herself in an old record shop. When she gets her hands on a banned Beatles record things take a strange turn and she ends up in 1965!
1. Yesterday

I walked through a still street. Still, compared to the rest of New York. Everything seemed much smaller in contrast to the rest of this crazy city. I had never been anywhere near these parts of town, and at the moment I was wishing I never had. But I didn't want to be at home, things weren't that bad, I mean my family is great. However things were just getting overwhelming with work, and the pressure at school, I just lost it. I am not one to normally freak under stress, but it was coming to be unbearable. I peeked out beneath my umbrella to view mostly vacant shops and buildings, they were so perfectly bare. As if they were dragged out of a 1960's movie and had never been touched since. I continued my lonesome pursuit humming to the rain drops tapping out an inconsistent melody against my black umbrella. Suddenly a small lit sign caught my eye. I paused in front of the old shop. It would have looked like it was abandoned if it weren't for a small "OPEN" hanging in the window. I was still standing blankly in front of the small shop, there was something that drew my attention. I made my way up the thick concrete steps and I pulled open the delicate wooded door, covered in local band posters and a written sign spelled out "Blue Jay Way Records."

I immediately thought of The Beatles song, which made me think that stopping at this shop might not have been a terrible idea. Saying I was a Beatles fan would be an understatement in the least. I had grown up with them. Before I could even talk I would sing Octopus Garden, my parents were so proud, they would invite there friends over and watch me sing the Starkey classic. They were a sense of calm when I needed it most and were a big influence on my life, my father even named me after his favourite Beatle. Yes, my middle name is Lennon, which potentially could have been worse I suppose. Irony setting in again as my last name is Abbey. Yes, like the road. I walked into the store and was greeted by rows and rows of vinyl records and a rather old man sitting behind the counter. He seemed startled at my entry.

"Well, hello there young lady," he said peering through his half moon glasses. The man had long silver hair cascading down the side of his face and stopping right below his chin. A smirk grew upon his face as he awaited my response.

"Hi, great shop!" I love the name," I responded cheerily.

"A Beatles fan are yeah love?" he spoke with a thick English accent.

"Yeah, of course, who isn't?" I giggled. He did as well.

"Do you have a favourite song?" he inquired.

"No, I don't, actually I always thought that a true Beatles fan can never be fully committed to just one song," I said looking through a pile of on sale records.

"You think so?" he questioned again.

"Yeah, for sure. The reason they are so genius is based on their entire repertoire. The fertility of their song writing is just astonishing really. Therefore you could never pick just one song, it would be like picking one ice cream flavour, having all the different kinds is what makes ice cream great."

"That's a very clever thought. I would have to agree with you Miss...?"

"Oh, I'm Charlotte, Charlotte Abbey," I saw him try to hide a smirk as he walked to a tall shelf with boxes of what I assumed to be filled with old vinyls.

"So Miss Abbey, picking a favourite Beatle would be quite chore for you eh?"

"Completely out of the question Sir," I responded cheekily. At this point I had just realized that I had found myself looking through a section of old Beatles records. Of course, it seemed as if they couldn't help but slip themselves into every aspect of my life.

"I see..., I would have guessed it to be Mr. Lennon," he gestured to the "People for Peace" patch on the left arm of my brown tweed blazer. I smiled politely.

"If it came down to it, I'm sure would weasel himself in the top spot of my affections," I giggled to myself. The shop owner seemed amused by my answer as well. I pulled out a copy of "The Beatles '65," LP from the large selection of records. It was one that had not made it to my collection yet. I tucked my little treasure under my arm and looked through the excessive collection. The shop keeper began whispering to himself as he climbed onto a small step stool and began rummaging through a box on the top shelf. I was still flicking through album after album watching mop-tops turn into scraggly facial hair and black and white morphing into psychedelic technicolour. Then a few records from the end I noticed an all to familiar picture of the three sync Beatles and a shoeless Paul.

"Abbey Road," The man inquired, now standing behind me with a hand behind his back.

"Yeah, I get that one a lot," I laughed, as he did along with me.

"I bet you do, do you own that one?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was actually given to me as a gift from my grandfather on my first birthday, and he's been giving me Beatles records up until the day he passed way, coincidentally When I was 13. So now I have just been collecting their live stuff, or compilations released in other countries and stuff like that."

" Do you have this one?" he asked pulling a record in prestige condition from behind his back. I gasped. Four mop-tops stared back at me covered in meat and baby doll limbs.


	2. I've Just Seen A Face

Yesterday and Today.I shook my head in utter shock.

"Of course not! Who does? it is like the holy grail of records!" I exclaimed. He laughed at my comment.

"You wouldn't be the first to compare The Beatles to Jesus." I laughed as well noting my choice of metaphor. But I was right, this thing was mega rare. When the Beatles first released this butcher covered version of their American released record, Capitol Records was not pleased with the disturbing artwork. The label banned it from sales and the gory cover was sealed over with a new photograph for resale, making an authentic butcher copy almost priceless. The shop owner held it out in front of me, gesturing me to take it, without a thought I grabbed it and held it in my own hands. I never thought I would ever have a chance to even see one of these things in person, let alone hold one! I flipped it over to look at the tracks. I noticed some of my favourite songs from 'Rubber Soul" like Nowhere Man, Drive My Car, and a Harrison classic If I Needed Someone. There were also a few from "Revolver," and of course Macca's masterpiece Yesterday.

"How would you like to add that one to your collection m'dear?" My eyes just about popped out of my skull! It's for sale? If I had this thing I would never leave it out of my sight, let alone sell it. I don't even want to know how much this thing is, I saw an episode of The Antique Roadshow where one of these records sold for over $10 000, and that was over 10 years ago!

"Sir, I couldn't even imagine what this costs! I unfortunately do not have the funds to be buying historical artifacts," He laughed. Still overwhelmed by his offer I rambled on.

"But I promise I will come back when I am a famous songwriter and musician, making millions and I will be more than happy to take that off your hands," I held out the record to offer it back to him, He backed away rejecting my offer.

"No, no I want you to have this, after tomorrow the ol'shop is closing down and I don't want this little treasure to get mixed up in the move, I would rather it in safe hands." he assured. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, first of all I never imagined even seeing one of these vinyls in person, let alone owning one!

"I'm sorry, this is just crazy, Are you serious?"

"Yes of course love, take it, you can also take home that other one you have there. It's on me." he reassured me. I was still in shock really. Yesterday and Today was one of the most valuable records in the world, and some stranger was just going to give it to me. It was just to good to be true, but it was the Beatles, they never did me any wrong before.

"Thank you very much, are you sure you didn't want it?"

"No, no,no I have no need for it at all, plus I think the lads would prefer your company to mine anyway," he chuckled. I laughed as well, though I didn't completely understanding what he meant, I thanked him again for the records and we said our farewells. I carefully tucked the records into my suede fringe messenger bag. As I made my way out of the shop I hailed a taxi to insure myself getting home safely with my new records.

When I got home I ran straight up to my room and closed the door. I was greeted by the familiar faces of my four boys plastered up on the walls and then quickly pulled Yesterday and Today from my bag and stared longingly at the mop tops in white smocks. I inspected the cover a little more carefully and i flipped it around to the back and scanned through the track list and prior Beatles LP covers. Suddenly I noticed something strange in the left corner of the casing. It was a dark circle, no bigger than the end of a pencil eraser. I couldn't for the life of me think of what it could be from, it looked as though it might be a burn mark or something. Disregarding the marking I carefully slid the record from it's infamous case and gently placed in in my turn table. As I put the needle on the slick black disc, my room began to fill with the twangs of George's Rickie with the first lick of the song, which I immediately recognized as "Drive My Car" originally from Rubber Soul. I grabbed my own, a 350V6 and jammed along side them to the awesome hit . As the track switched to "I'm Only Sleeping,'' With my Rickenbacker still in my possession. I flopped myself onto my double bed in a way that reminded my of the mountain scene in Help!

The intense harmonies of "Nowhere Man" filled my room and then it wasn't long before one of their first drug anthems "Doctor Robert," took the stage. As I was listening I closed my eyes and pictured myself at a concert, and watching them on stage. That stable back beat coming from the stoned smiley face of Ringo Starr. He is almost impossibly adorable, with those eyes and that laugh. It's just as impossible to not smile while watching him drum. Even now in his 71st year, he still had that affect on me. My eye then went to Paul. Shaking his dark mop along with his iconic baseline and blaring perfect harmonies against the others. In my vision he winked at me and smiled with that charming smirk. I always assumed that Paul would be quite arrogant but I couldn't help but love him, and the way he felt music was so inspiring. Speaking of inspiring, Just to the right of Paul, blasting a haunting lead vocal was John Lennon. John stood on the stage with his wider stance strumming his guitar playing out one of his infamous alter egos. Other than being named after the late peace activist, he was a big part of my life. I could not idolize him more, everything about him either reminded me of myself or someone I aspired to be. Whether it be his quick wit, bluntness, or ability to speak his mind. However, I will admit his fire red temper was the complete opposite to mine, and something that was not much to be desired. Butterflies immediately filled my stomach as I stared at the slim man playing those familiar guitar licks. George Harrison. I don't know what it was about him that made me feel this way when I thought about him. His music was so good, with The Beatles and even better solo, there was also a sense of realism with George. Though stuck in the crazy life of fame, he always seemed to look at it from the outside. He seemed like a guy you would see on a park bench, watching the birds, He seemed real.

I noticed the song changed when the soft plucking of an acoustic guitar filled the room. _Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away_. _Now it looks as though there here to stay, oh I believe in yesterday_. Finally the strings came in and joined Paul's smooth voice. I remembered the first time I heard Paul's masterpiece. I was five years old, when my grandfather gave me his "Help!" record. It was one of my favourite LPs. Yesterday was the kind of song that sounded so familiar even if you had never heard it before and thats how I felt, it was a song I felt I knew my whole life, even though it was my first time hearing it. _Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me, oh yesterday came suddenly_. Though my eyes were closed I began to see a light escaping through my eye lids. Each second the light I assumed to be the sun arriving after the rain began to grow stronger and stronger. Thinking a light this bright could not possibly be the sun I opened my eyes to reveal a bright white light coming from the speakers of my vinyl player. Before I even had a chance to determine what the mysterious light was, it began penetrating through every opening of my room. Instantly the light became overwhelming and I had to to cover my eyes into my pillow. Suddenly I heard an off chord in the song before it abruptly stopped in the middle and I noticed that the surface I was laying on wasn't my bed but something much harder, and carpeted for that matter. I heard talking which must have been coming from a different room because I couldn't quite make out what anyone was saying. I felt someone standing over me.

"Hullo, are you alright miss?" I heard an all to familiar accented voice. I opened my eyes and looked up to see the face of a young Paul McCartney.


	3. Ticket To Ride

I must be dreaming. All I could do is stare at him and contemplate my reality. I heard a buzzing sound and then a man with a more proper accent then Paul's talk over some kind of speaker.

"McCartney, what was that?" Paul put a hand up towards the voice.

"Hold on a second ," Paul leaned down to be more at my level. I looked around and noticed a bunch of wires, amps and instruments. I assumed that I was in the middle of the Abbey Road recording studio and the more I thought about it, the more familiar the studio looked. I then slowly sat up, I was at about eye level with Paul. I looked into his puppy dog eyes and he put a hand to my cheek, I was shocked by the warmth it brought, it felt to real. I could even make out the roughness of the tips of his fingers on his right hand. Way to real. I still was certain I had to be dreaming, so I discretely dug my thumbnail into the side of my index finger. I pushed until I could no longer be in denial from the realistic pain I felt in my hand. The more cliche dream tests I tried the closer I was to believing I was not dreaming. One last shot, I thought to myself. I quickly put my hand to the one Paul had resting on my cheek. He was real. I finally broke myself from his gaze and I attempted to collect myself, from one of two things, the one of course being that Paul McCartney was touching me and secondly I had just travelled in time. I pondered at which thought was more exciting.

" I am so sorry I interrupted your song Sir," Shit, he's not even knighted yet! Oh well, he'lI just think I am being formal. I knew he was all to used to the whole "out of breath, screamy fangirl thing," and I wasn't about to be put on their level by any means. I tried to get up, and he offered the hand that once held my cheek.

"No don't worry it's fine, we've had it like twelve takes ago," he assured. I grabbed his hand and got up of the ground to notice that I was in fact in Abbey Road recording studio and also a window standing across from an irritated looking man on the other side of the glass that I recognised as George Martin. He looked at me with a look that directly said, "Who the hell are you?" and with that I waved and gave him my signature "cheeky" smirk, before he got up and left. Paul chuckled.

"Sorry Miss, but if you don't mind me smothering you with questions, but I have a few, first off,,,," he bowed, grabbed my hand with the classic wink.

"I am Paul McCartney, and If you would be so kind in telling me who you are my love?"

"Yes, right I am Charlotte Abbey, a real pleasure to meet you Paul," he released my hand and I let him carry on with his questions.

"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine, and may I ask what you are wearing?" I looked down and fully took in my outfit choice of the day, I was very a pair of vintage skinny jeans with a lacy tank top, partially covered by my brown tweed blazer with a classic pair of leather oxford. It was like the 70's threw up on me, I didn't think I should look that out of place.

"Clothes Mr. McCartney I am wearing clothes, next question, that one was a little disappointing and I had such high hopes for you," I teased which made him smile.

"Well played my friend. Alright, well then how did you appear right out of thin air?" he asked in a obviously over staged whisper,

"See, I would have thought that one would have been your first question, well to be honest I..." an before I could finish a door quite close to us flung open and in came in, someone I never thought it even would be possible to get the chance to meet. He just stood there ,gawking at me, I assumed it was because he probably couldn't see me due to the fact that he wasn't wearing his glasses, but even if he did I really couldn't blame him. I returned his glare, and even if I tried I couldn't bear to take my eyes of him. He was standing just a few feet away from me and he was alive. John Lennon was alive. This might have been one of the best moments of my life, even if it was a dream. I had so much to say to him, so many questions, but I could only stare at this point as cliche as it sounds. He still had his mop top, however it was a little more rugged then Paul's. Actually, everything about him was a little more rugged then Paul. They way he stood, the way his brown suede jacket fell around his fuller figure.

"Who's the bird?" he asked Paul nonchalantly. Perfect. Those weren't exactly the first words I wanted to hear from John Lennon, however it was completely expected. Paul looked a little scattered, he must have been thinking about what John would think about this whole situation, and he was about to introduce me, however I thought I could handle it myself. I reached my hand in front of John for a hand shake.

"I'm Charlotte, Who are you?" I asked boldly. It seemed his ego was taken aback by this faulty question, however he took my hand and shook it firmly with a sly grin on his face.

"John Lennon, pleasure to meet you love," I smiled back, our gaze was not broken untill the same door flung open a second time, but this time two men walked through.

"Paul did you get the take... oh," his dark eyes immediately moved in my direction and those similar butterflies fled through my stomach once again. Mesmerised by his presence, my hand slowly fell from John's once firm grip. He noticed this, and in return I saw a small smile grow upon his face from the corner of my eye. I could not believe that John Lennon was only a foot in front of me, and yet I was taken aback by another man, There was just something about him. Ironically something. He held out his hand rather nervously before me.

"I'm George Harrison, it's very nice to meet you," I smiled and almost to quickly grabbed his hand. I couldn't begin to describe the happiness I felt to see them both here, both being able to stand before me, being able to live for that matter. The warmth of his hand felt so new and intreging, I hoped that I would be able to have a real friendship with these guys, and I felt the same reaction from George. Right as I was about to introduce myself, the one and only Ringo Starr, a very young looking Ringo Starr put his hand out and grinned ear to ear with the classic Starr-smile, I giggled and my hand, once in George's ended up in Ringo's. I looked up into those blue eyes and almost melted, he was truly very handsome in person. I could not stop smiling, I just hoped this wasn't some cruel dream and I was going to wake up any minute.

"I'm Charlotte Abbey, and if my math is correct you must be ,"

"Yes indeed, that would be me," he said in a sort of sing-song voice.

"And it is wonderful meeting you Charlotte," he said while bobbing his head side to side. Adorable I thought. He then grabbed my hand and brought it up to his lips. John quickly intervened.

"Ringo, that's horrible, tryin to 'ave yer way with Paulie's girl," Ringo quickly let go of my hand, almost as fast as me a Paul denied being together.

"Then how did she get in here with ya then," John inquired.

"We were actually just about to 'ave that conversation," Paul retorted. A sly grin appeared over John's face as he cocked his head in my direction.

"Well why don't we take this conversation somewhere a little more comfortable for the night?" I took a step towards him,

"And what did you have in mind Lennon?" I cheekily replied, with the knowledge I had on John Lennon, I was fully aware of what he was implying. However, this could be all a dream, and if not I will need a place to stay and it is John fucking Lennon! Not that I am one to sleep around, to be honest I haven't even had my first time yet, and just because I stay with him, doesn't mean anything like that will happen. I sure was doing a great job of talking myself into this. John smiled and took a step towards me so that we were mildly close.

" I thought all four of us should spend the night at Paulie's so you can tell us were you came from and why you are dressed like Epstein would on a Friday night with all his little faggy friends." Yes, I was for sure in the 60's due to that comment and going by what he said about Brian Epstein I was sure that I was in 1965.

"Yes, In fact as scary as the sounds, it would be an honour to join you, however John you have to promise me you will stop treating Brian like shit, because you will regret it, trust me," I hated to have to sound like a drag, but as we all know, he will soon regret it. He rolled his eyes.

"Your lucky your cute Abbey,"  
>"Your lucky your famous,"<p>

That common Lennon smirk grew upon his face once more as he lead me out of the studio with the boys and into Paul's Aston Martin.

"


	4. Act Naturally

Paul flicked the radio on as he sat behind the wheel at a stop sign, and George who was in the passenger side turned the dial trying to find anything good. I was in the backseat of course, in between Ringo and John. I was still a little starstruck, nonetheless it was so was so easy to be myself around these guys. It was like I have known them my whole life, well in fact that was not entirely false. I had grown up with them figuratively I suppose. The conversation was flowing a lot smoother than I had even hoped, and I was having a lot of fun, I almost forgot that I had no clue how to get home or if I wanted to at this point for that matter. I could have a whole new incredible journey ahead of me that I wanted to see unfold. I looked out the window on John's side and watched the sun follow us over the London skyline. John took this as me trying to stare at him I suppose because put a hand up to my face and started to twirl one of my midnight brown curls through his fingers. I sighed with huff.

"John do you mind!" I turned my head facing straight ahead hoping it was a bold enough movement to make a point. Unfortunately the books were not lying when the said John Lennon was increasingly stubborn. Therefore he kept doing so, and my little out burst caught the attention of all the other boys. Paul was laughing like mad, while George was too, but not as loud. Ringo decided to join in on the "fun" and started playing with the other side of my curly brown locks. I sighed over dramatically. Every time I tried to pull away from one of them, the other would pull my hair in there direction. John and Ringo started laughing uncontrollably at my prevalent pain, well that may be an exaggeration. George at this point was still spinning through radio stations when he stopped at one playing a Maggie's Farm by Bob Dylan. I was a huge Dylan fan myself, so naturally I knew a fair amount of the words I began to sing along. John had noticed and let go of my hair. Thank goodness Ringo followed suit.

"You know Dylan?" John asked surprisingly.  
>"Yeah, of course! I am American, and it's a classic,"<br>"How can it be a classic already?" Paul jumped in. Right, of course I need be more cautious of these things before I tell them I am from the future. Not knowing how to answer, I just deflected it by pretending not the hear him and began singing louder to the Dylan hit, and sporadically moved my arms to the music. John and Ringo did so as well and we started to practically shake the entire car! George was turned around to face us from the passenger side also bobbing his head and singing to the lyrics. We all attempted at our own "Dylan "voice, John's was for sure the best impression. Ringo told me mine sounded more like Popeye the Sailor Man then anything else, Paul then laughed in his best Popeye impression, which was quite good by the way, and the rest of us collapsed into laughter. Now all of us were singing as loud as we could,

"I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more, No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more!"

As we continued through the streets of London singing along to radio hits like Elvis Presley's "Crying In the Chapel,"

"Have you guys met Elvis yet?" I quizzed the boys.

"Nope," John answered,

"We have been trying to for the longest time, but his people just keep sending us fucking merchandise, which is just bull shit,"

"But I do love the Elvis mug," Ringo added.

"Yeah, that ones great, I used mine this morning!" Paul joined in. We all laughed.

"Well, you guys will meet him by the end of the summer I promise," I reassured them, because they would, on August 27th to be exact. God, I was such a nerd.

"You promise us eh, Abbey?" John put his hand on the top of my head and ruffled my hair like you would a dog.

"Yes, John! Now stop your fucking up my fringe," referring to my thick blunt brown bangs that hung just below my eyebrows, not much different from the boys mop tops.

"Looks like we found a bird with a dirty little mouth!," John exclaimed. The other lads made "oooo" noises to get me going.

"Oh shut it Lennon, now then, you have to promise me that when you go to meet Elvis you have to take me along" I began to scruff up his hair the way he did to mine.

"You raise a good bargain, I will have to consider and run it past some of my people," he said in a very upper class British accent.

We were all laughing as we pulled up into a hidey-doo area of London and Paul drove the car into a garage attached to a smallish but beautiful little townhouse. We all got out of the Aston Martin, except for Paul who still remained in the drivers seat.

"I think I'm going to head back to the studio," he said as he threw George an a key, which I assumed was to get into his house.

"Awwww, come on Paulie, why?" John said in an over the top whiny voice.

"I have had some inspiration to finish the lyrics to Aunty Gin`s song," he said in a kind of hushed tone.

"Well It's about fucking time, is it because of...," George took a swing and hit John in the stomach. In which he started to hunch over and laugh. I giggled at his dramatics.

"Alright Paul, we`ll see you in a bit then," George said, while the other three of us waved as he pulled out of the parking garage. George unlocked the side door to the house and we all piled through. I was standing in Paul McCartney`s private house. With three Beatles nonetheless! It was strange, as natural as I felt being around them, my brain still had difficulties in-taking all these very strange Beatle and time travel occurrences. The house inside was very nice, it definitely looked a lot bigger on the inside then it did from the front. Right as I entered  
>the house I was hit with a strong smell of pot, which I was expecting. The boys seemed to not take notice, which would make sense by what I have heard about there lifestyle around this time. I followed George to a room on the main floor that had a couple couches and instruments scattered about as well as pieces of paper with lyrics scratched on to them. The other boys had gone of to other places in the house, so George and I were alone for the first time. I took a seat on one of the dark velvet love-seats that was placed in front of an ebony coffee table. I really got a good look at the room, it looked like an antique furniture store, if a 23 year old man lived in it. George sat down beside me and smiled. I got those out of place butterflies yet again. He looked a little nervous, which made me blush, I couldn't even imagine some one like myself making a Beatle blush. I smiled back at him and scattered some thoughts to start a conversation with the guitarist.<p>

"So what was Paul talking about just then," I asked him, even though I already had some kind of idea what he was talking about with my in depth Beatles knowledge.

"Paul's been a working on this song for a while now. We recorded the instrumentals today, but 'e 'as never really been fully 'appy with the lyrics".

"What is it called?" I asked him.

"Well, 'e 'asn't given it a real name, we've all just been calllin' Auntie Gins Theme, cause 'is aunt really liked it,"

"That's really sweet," I understood that this was the song that eventually became _I've Just Seen A Face_. George smiled at my comment. There was an acoustic guitar leaning on the side of the couch closest to me. I asked George if it as okay that I picked it up. He nodded. I reached over and picked up, what seemed to be a Epiphone Texan. It was strung left handed of course, which was great for me because I was left handed as well.

"You play Charlotte?" George asked sounding surprised.

"Yeah, a little, I mean nothing near as good as you,"

"Well go on, play me something," he said with with his little side smile. I contemplated literally playing him "_Something_" but I figured that may not play out so well, I settled on _Raunchy_, I felt like that one would be a clever choice under the circumstances. So I began to play the first couple bars of the song, and George's face immediately lit up. It was surreal, I couldn't believe I was playing guitar for George Harrison!

"Georgie, I 'av'nt 'eard you play that one in a while," I heard John shout before he walked in the room. When he noticed it was me playing he let out one of his giant bird laughs.

"Shit Abbey! You can play, and Paulie's guitar for that matter too. George you better watch it or I might replace you," John sat down between us on the two seat couch. I giggled.

"I wouldn't worry about it, I'm not even close to being as good as George," I stated.

"Yes maybe not," John replied, he snuck his arm along the back of the couch that I was sitting on, so his arm was practically around me.

"But I bet your better in other situations," he suggested provocatively. I practically jumped on to the arm of the couch, after slapping him lightly on the chest. George was chuckling to himself.

"You really have sense of boundaries do you?" I asked him.

"That's something I had to learn the hard way," Ringo said as he walked in the room holding a small tin box. We all laughed, except for John who flipped him the bird. Ringo took a seat on an dark green embellished chair and pulled out a joint and a match from the small box and lit it up. The hazy smoke filled the room as he took a puff. He offered it to me, and I passed it along to John, who took a drag and blew the skunk like smoke back in my face.

"Come'on Abbey, we Beatles 'ave the good stuff, that I will promise you," I looked over at George who nodded and I took the joint from John and took a puff.


	5. Tell Me What You See

_**Authors Note: Well Hello There Readers! Now, first of all, my apologies for the length. I know it's not very long, but I just wanted to get this chapter out before the weekend. I just wanted to thank everyone for reviewing and if we could try to get it to 20 reviews before the next one that would be just wonderful! Enjoy! **_

We all ended up on the floor sitting in a circle, each looking at each others faces like they were the most interesting things we had ever laid our eyes on. The sun had finally set and George had fetched a right hand guitar from a whereabouts that was unknown to me at the moment, and probably to him as well.

"Georgie sing a song!" I asked him in a fit of giggles.

"Yes Georgie, please sing a song for me!" John tried to mimic me in an attempt at a whiny fan girl voice. I lightly slapped him on the arm.

"What shall I play then love, your choice," he directed to me.

"Oh do "Don't Bother Me" I love that one!" John sighed and collapsed onto me with his head my lap.

"Are you sure you don't want to hear one of my songs?" John asked looking up at me with his glazed over almond shaped eyes. I flicked his nose and told him a much preferred George, which I knew would get him going. George found it quite amusing and started play Don't Bother Me in between fits of laughter. I sang along with him while doing a little head bob, John said was a little reminiscent of Paul. Ringo, who hadn't stopped smiling in what had seemed like hours, due to the fact that the sun was now down. got up from his seat and grabbed my hand to pull me out of mine. He took my other hand and began to bop around to the music like mad and insisted I join him. In the state I was in there was no refusing. We danced around for the rest of the song, John even started dancing around with us too. George finished the song, and looked back into our special little tin, and sighed after realizing it was empty. Suddenly I felt someone squeeze my waist I squealed and turned around to see Paul. The other guys were laughing at my reaction.

"Paul!," I screeched, and flung my arms around neck. I did'nt have to reach to far up, considering he was only a few inches taller than me. First of all, I couldn't believe what I was doing considering that I just met this guy and I didn't want to mess it up. Nonetheless Paul wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close towards him. He hugged me back. It all happened so fast I don't even think the other guys noticed, they all crowded around Paul and congratulating him on finishing the song. Paul ended up grabbing a beer from the kitchen and the rest of us were back sitting in the circle. I grabbed Paul's Texan and was strumming it quietly as he walked back into the living room.

"Paulie she plays too," John told him as he took a seat across from myself.

"Yeah, play something else Charlotte!" Ringo jeered.

"Char-lotte, Char-lotte, Char-lotte!" They all began to chant.

"Fine, fine I'll play!" I said and they all began to cheer, except for Paul.

"First, your have to tell us where you came from," Paul said. A sudden dread filled me. I almost forgot that I was going to eventually tell them that I came from 2012! I didn't want them to think of me differently, we had already became quite close throughout the night and I didn't want this to freak them out or scare them away. But I knew I had to tell them, the truth would have to come out anyway. I took a deep breath and prayed for the best.

"Okay, I'll will tell you, but you have to promise you, one will not freak out and two, you will let me explain before you break the first condition. They all nodded in silence, and I thought of the best way to tell them the truth. I started strumming a G chord on the guitar. There was no turning back now. They were intently staring at me as my G turned to an Em then a C, and I began to sing.

_I've just seen a face  
>I can't forget the time or place<br>that we'd just met, she's just the girl for me  
>And I want all the world to see we've met<br>na, na na na na na _

Paul was glaring at me in disbelief, but I kept going.

_Had it been another day  
>I might have looked the other way<br>but I have never been aware  
>but as it is I'll dream of her tonight.<em>

"How do you know that song," Paul almost whispered in disbelief after my music faded into silence.

"What are you talking about Paulie, that was beautiful, John reassured.

"No, that song..." he stuttered. I squinted my eyes, waiting for whats to come.

"Paul, what are you talking about?" George asked. Paul looked like he was in shock, but looking from his perspective, I probably would be to.

"This is the song that Paul just finished a few hours ago, at the studio. And I know that, because I'm from the future.


	6. Help!

John got up from his seat and started to pace around anxiously.

"You got to be fucking kidding me," I heard him mutter to himself.

"It's true! I swear, see thats why I'm dressed so 'weird' this is normal when I'm from. " Paul got up as well. I looked over at George for a hint of sympathy, however his expression just looked blank.

"Charlotte, what are you talking about?" Ringo asked. I got up from the couch.

"I'm from 2012! I know how it sounds. It sounds so fucked up, but it's true! One minute I was in my room listening to your song," I pointed at Paul who was now standing across the room.

"and the next I was lying on the floor of the studio! Paul you saw me!" John had begun to walk out the door. I called to him, but he ignored me and continued to distance himself from the living room. I started to feel sick to my stomach, sick of regret. Why did I have to ruin it? Things were going so well. I was becoming friends with these guys, like I knew I always could. However, a friendship based on lies wasn't something I wanted for myself either. I heard a loud crash coming from where John had gone off to.

"Don't fucking flip your wig, John!" George shouted to him. We heard another large crash, with foul words coming from John, George took a quick glance at me and then went running off after him. Paul was still glaring at me from the other end of the room, while Ringo just sat in silence.

"Look, I know what your thinking, that I'm just a silly fan girl who Is just trying to take you on a ride for fame. I get that. But you just got to trust me," I scatted my body trying to find something that might work as evidence. I noticed that I still had my shoulder bag. I plucked it onto the floor and began hauling things out, first came my wallet. I quickly pulled out my drivers license, and practically shoved it into his face.

"See, it has my birthday on it! August 10th 1994. See 1994!" I physically pointed out the four numbers. Ringo took the piece of certification and looked at it intently, my guess trying to find out how I "faked" it. I scurried over to my bag again. Filed through school papers and other things that I probably should have gotten ride of, but in the midst I pulled out my iPod and raised it above my head and sang the hallelujah chorus, out loud too.

"What is that," Paul asked quietly. I took it and flipped to Music, and then played it out loud for them. That all to familiar tune began to play through the small speakers.

_Da da da, da da dun dun da  
>Da da da, da da dun dun da<br>if theres anything that you want  
>if there's anything I do<br>just call on me and ill send it along  
>with love from me to you.<br>_  
>Paul and Ringo looked astonished.<p>

"It's called an iPod, it's how we listen to music in 2012." I held the small device that was oh so famillar to me, yet very foreign to these two men that stood before me in such a confused state. The song was still playing quite loud through the tiny speakers, and Paul slowly started to come towards the sound. He looked at me questionably and I held out the music player for him to see it. He reached and took it into his own palm and held it as if it were a live creature of some sort. He analysed it thoroughly with his eyes, not moving the iPod from the position he had taken it in. Ringo got up to surround Paul and the foreign device.

"Press the two little triangles pointing to the right," I suggested. He scanned the iPod and then looked at me funny.

"How do I do that,the only symbol like that is on the screen," he inquired.

"Yeah, you touch the one on the screen," He did so, and a different song began to fill the room once again.

_"Close you eyes and I'll kiss you  
>Tomorrow I'll miss you;<br>Remember to always be true_

_And while I'm away  
>I'll write home everyday;<br>and I'll send all my loving to you_

Paul looked at me again, this time with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"You listen to us Charlotte?" he asked poking my side.

"This is the part your surprised about?" I asked him in disbelief.

"This thing is incredable!" Ringo said still flipping through a play-list I made of their earlier stuff.

"What else can it do?" He and Paul both stared at me intently.

"What, can't it do is really the question," I giggled.

" Well to cover the basics you can listen to music of course, watch movies or televison shows and I have some games on there too,"

"Oh I want to play a game!," Ringo shouted. I hooked him up to play "Angry Birds" taught him some simple maneuvers and he went to town, flinging birds and what not. As Ringo was keeping himself occupied Paul and I took a seat on the couch. Paul had acquired my drivers license and was studying it rather curiosly.

"So you are really from the future, aren't you Char?

"Yeah, I am, and trust me, I'm just as freaked about this thing just as much as you are. See with you guys you just have to deal with me, but on my side of things I have to put up with no computers, no snack packs and you lot." Paul lightly shoved me and I did the same back.

"So what is this thing called again," Ringo asked, eyes glued to the screen.

"It's an iPod," I told him, still laughing from Paul.

"Why is there an apple on the back?" Paul asked curiously.

"Oh, that's the name of the company that makes it, Apple, like the fruit," I explained

"That's quite strange, in'et Paul?" Ringo questioned.

"Yeah, it is. But I quite like it actually, Apple," he said again to himself.


	7. Another Girl

**Wow, it's been a long time. My deepest apologies, I really wish I could update more often, but time is certainly a restriction. However I thought I would post this for now, it is very short compared to my other chapters, but it is quite a progressive piece. Nonetheless, which would you perfer as readers? Shorter chapters posted more frequently or longer ones like once every month? I would love to know what you think, i those regardes as well as the story. Thanks so much for all your reviews, and I hope you enjoy! -AJ **

I woke up at what must have been like 3 in the morning according to an old looking clock hanging on the wall of the living room. I knew for a fact now that this was no dream, I lifted my head up slowly from what I thought was a pillow, which turned out to be Paul McCartney's firm abdomen that consisted only of a small layer of fabric separating our bodies. I looked around the dark living space. Ringo was laying down quite close to Paul and I, sleeping of course and to my surprise a sleeping George Harrison was slung across the couch with an arm gently dangling over the floor. I quietly watched him, still my pre-awakened state. I looked back at the three of them, in their deep slumbers and it suddenly dawned on me, someone was missing. John. It all came back to me, how he stormed out after I told them the truth of where I actually came from. I slowly rose to my feet, careful not to wake the boys. I had thought that if George came back, he might have brought John with him. I tiptoed away from the living room, and felt a chilly breeze. It would have been less noticeable if I was still wearing my blazer, but it was now draped over Paul as if it were a make shift blanket. I kept walking toward the breeze and saw a faint light coming from the window of the back door.

I walked up to the door and peeked through the window. It was John. He was smoking a cigarrette that was piercing a faint light on my face through the window. I slowly opened the door, and he quickly flung around to notice me in the door way. However he did not leave this time. He only looked at me. Not breaking our gaze, I made my way on to the patio and stood next to him.

"Hey," I said, barley even audible. He flicked his head up in a half hearted nod.

"I'm sorry, that I made you angry," I managed to whisper.

"You should be." he retorted in a sigh.

"John, what do you fucking want from me?" I shouted at him.

"I am telling you the truth, and you know what? Out of the four of you, I thought you would be the first one to believe me, but no you ran off like a little bitch and didn't even give me time to expla..." He cut me off by cornering up against the cold brick wall of the house. My head was between his tense meaty arms pushing against the wall as if he could somehow move it and our noses just inches apart. I squinted my eyes in hopes of not meeting his directly.

"I thought you would be my way out," he furiously spoke in a breathy voice, allowing me to smell a faint sent of alcohol and cigarette smoke warm on his breath.

"Way out of what John?" I responed questioningly. He put his cold, rough hand to my cheek and I practically froze. Still inches apart, except this time I made the mistake of looking into his rich brown eyes.

"My way out of 'ere, this shit I 'ave to call my life," he released my cheek from his caress and flung himself around, staring at the night sky with his back towards me.

"John," I sighed his name as I quickly stepped toward him and grabbed his hand into mine.

"Abbey, I'm going absolutely mad! I can't fucking take this anymore, this constant chaos, this constant... nowhereness." he squeezed my hand. I rested my head on his shoulder to show my sympathy, he showed his appreciation by planting a short, quiet kiss upon the top of my head.

"Sometimes life is quiet nowhereish," I spoke to him while his head began to overlap mine.

"Yes, it is. but when I met'cha it did'nt feel so nowhereish," he answered as small smile grew upon my face.

"You felt so familliar and real, and I feel like you don't see me like the other birds do, like a Beatle. You see me as the man I want to be." The hand that was once in my own was now finding itself around my waist, and my heart began to race at the sound of his voice.

"I got angry because I thought you were making that shit up about you being from the future n'all, to try to get our attention, or that you were just some crazy bird and not what I felt you were." His arm now around my waist, he pulled me into him with a swift motion. Our noses just inches apart, he tried to find my gaze as he rose his free hand to recreate that oh so familiar caress on my cheek, I inhaled deeply finding it difficult to depict whether the smell of alcohol was stronger on my breath, or his. I had to assume it was mine by the way I bluntly wrapped my arms around his neck as his slightly open mouth met mine.


	8. You're Going to Lose that Girl

_**Hey there! Sorry that I have not updated in the longest of times, school seems to be rather an obstacle. However I do plan on finishing the story this summer break, which is'nt too, too far away, so just stick with me here :) I also wanted to say that I love reading your reviews, good or bad and your words are always motivation to write more! So Peace, Love and Enjoy! XX**_

The five of us sat in a circle of chairs and stools backstage. All looking around at each of our faces. The boys had just finished up a show. We all had this drone ringing in our ears from the abundance of screams, and then the boys trying to play over the endless waves. I looked over at Paul, his hair left stringy, like the others from the heat and his shirt drenched in sweat. They all smelled terrible, but it was something I had gotten used to this past week just as well as the screaming and hollering of "I LOVE YOU!".This week had gone by so quickly, I knew the Beatles were busy guys but busy was truly an understatement. We had been touring around America for the past couple days, we really hadn't anytime to go shopping so I had grown accustomed to wearing Ringo's clothes, considering we were the same height. Today I was sporting Ringo's white dress shirt tucked into his jet black trousers that surprisingly fit me quite well with a pair of suspenders, I thought I almost looked like one of them if it weren't for my longer hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. All of us were completely zoned out. The noise of the crowd was insane, I was really looking forward to leaving and going back to the hotel. We were having a little party for Lennon, today his book was finally released. The cheering of their reluctant fans had not even began to cease, it was funny to think that at one point I would have been on the other side of things.

"Guys, you have to do something about that," I sighed irritant, gesturing towards the crowd that was just behind that thin wall.

Paul looked at John who looked at George, who looked over at Ringo, who was now grinning from ear to ear. It was like something from "A Hard Days Night".

"It's your turn to do something about it," Before I had anytime to think about it Paul had grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the stage with him and the rest of the boys. The screaming from backstage was muffled compared to the absolute meltdown the young girls were having since the return of their precious boys to the stage. Paul got up to the mic first.

"Hello Everyone! I just wanted to thank everyone for joining us tonight!" The cheering grew even louder, which I almost didn't think was possible. I was still hesitating whether to go on the stage, but with Ringo physically pushing me on I didn't really have a choice. I looked over a John, who seemed to be in one of his nonsensical moods, was clapping and waltzing around the stage. Suddenly the cheering had decreased with a mob of whispers. I tried to find out what they were saying, I could only make out a little of it, and I was becoming frightened.

"Is that a girl?"

"Who is she?"

"She better not be with Paul!"

"She's probably sleeping with all of them,"  
>"That Bitch!"<p>

Suddenly that insane cheering had turned into a mob of booing and I knew it was all because of me. This was probably the first fleet of booing the boys had ever heard. Right when a blonde girl in the front row was about to throw something at me, I felt two arms wrap around me and pushed me off the stage right before whatever she threw hit the stage with a crash. I gasped in both shock and awe and clutched the chest of my saviour who I first assumed to be John. Quickly I came to the realization that it wasn't John. I looked up to see Mr. George Harrison. He looked quite frightened, which made me quite surprised.

"What the fuck was that," I said just before breaking into a fit of laughter, soon followed by George. We looked back out onto the stage with police trying to calm the crowd down, Ringo not helping by booing the crowd back. John was shouting at the crowd.

"Noighty girls! Noighty, Noighty Girls!," Still in his arms, I looked up at George, who was beaming. There was something special about George, there was always something special about George. However it was interrupted as the rest of the band ran off the stage. George quickly released as soon as he caught sight of John.

"Well that went swimmingly," John said as he and Paul grabbed both my hands and quickly hurried me to an exit. Bodyguards suddenly swarmed in and created a barrier around the band and myself and lead us swiftly to a black car. We all piled in the back seat just as a crowd of the screaming girls came to mob the vehicle. First Ringo, George, Paul and John climbed over to the front seat. That constant ringing of fans was beginning to be overwhelming as they started to pound on the car window as the driver slowly tried to maneuver through the clouds of girls. Paul charmingly waved, Ringo smiled, John made funny faces, and the girls were just eating it up, I giggled quietly to myself. Seeing these girls just fawn over them made me realize just how lucky I actually was for them to even want to be near me, you know since they had this huge selection. I looked up at George, who I thought would be at least waving to the fans, but he wasn't. Right as I looked up he quickly looked in the opposite direction of me. Was George Harrison secretly looking at me? A shiver shot up my spine just thinking about the idea. But then there was John. After the kiss a week ago, it was like nothing had happened. To be honest I think he was so drunk he forgot about it, or he didn't want to bring it up, and personally I didn't either. To distract myself I thought I would wave along with Paul to the fans pressed against the glass of the window. Which looking back on it, it probably wasn't my best idea. As the fans noticed me in the car, squashed between Paul and George. The friendly tapping on the windows turned to banging fists and the foulest of phrases that I wouldn't even think to come from girls in the 60's. Paul looked at me with a concerned look and covered my ears and pushed me down, practically into George's lap.

"Paul, if they are calling me whore, I don't think this position is the best way to defend that." I suggested.

"Yeah Paulie," John added.

"And the last thing we need is Georgie boy 'ere gettin' excited, this is a new car n' all"

George turned beet red and glared at John, I myself would have been rather uncomfortable with that comment, but after living on the road with four boys, and one of them being John Lennon, it is not uncommon.

After sometime, we finally made it through the mania, and was able to get to the hotel we were suppose to be staying at. At this point we were all lounging around, in the peace and quiet smoking some celebratory reefers.

"So today was kind of a mess with the fans, yeah?" Paul brought up.

"Yeah, it seems are our girl fans are not of fan of Miss Abbey here, it's a shame really because I think you are wonderful," Ringo said with a smile. I giggled, and bowed to him.

"Why thank you ," I said in my spot on British accent. Ringo apparently thought that this was hilarious, of course the weed always helps, but he was very persistent about me doing a scouse one.

"Do it! Try to sound like George!" Everybody was crowded around waiting for me to attempt a George Harrison impression. I had been known back home from doing a pretty good Beatle so I thought I'd give it a try.

"Ok, before I do..." I turned to George, "Please do not hold me accountable for any discomfort and possibly offensive this may bring." he laughed and nodded for me to proceed. I made my mouth a little of to the side like his and brought out the scouser in me. I was finding it hard to keep a straight face, and the boys were at the edge of their seats in anticipation. I took a deep breath and went for it.

"Oh, by all means, I would be quite prepared for that eventuality." This line was followed by a enormous burst of laughter from all, including myself.

A couple drinks later we arose back on to the topic of me versus the female fans.

"Geese, Charlotte, why do you have to be so pretty and girly that you stand out so much and make our fans so jealous?" Paul whined with a wink. Suddenly l felt someone yank my ponytail and then the snip of scissors and three Beatle gasps.

"Shouldn't 'ave that issue now," John spoke as he threw the bundle of my long brown tresses to the hotel floor.


	9. The Night Before

**Hey there! Here is the next chapter, I made it a little longer since I have been feeling guilty for not doing a longer one in a while. I want to give a shout out to ****023Faust****, not only for writing one of my favourtie fanfics at the moment, but for the message as well, it was really great, Thanks a bundle! Anyway now that you're here I might as well tell you about a website that I made as a joke for my friend who was absoulutley clueless about the Beatles, its been a lot of fun making it so if your interested you can check it out at ****.com/**

**Thanks again and ENJOY!**

**-Abbie J **

I was totally immobilized. My hand went directly to the back of my head to where my long pony tail was just moments ago. Now just a mop top of shaggy brown locks remained. Tears started to build up in my already glossy eyes, I almost didn't notice the completely stunned faces of the other Beatles that made a quick transition into giggling. John ruffled the top of my head, then pulled a comb from his pocket and ran it through my hair until it was a perfectly round mop-top. He then quickly sat down beside me, put an arm around my neck and brought our heads together side, by side.

"See, now we match, can't even tell the difference," John said enthusiastically.

"I am going to kill you," I said staring and the floor, my teeth clenched.

"What was that dear?" John cooed. There was so much rage built inside me that I couldn't possibly hold back any longer. I just lost it.

"JOHN I"M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Paul's Point of View

_I was still relatively shocked at the event that 'ad just taken place, as I quickly glanced around the room I realized I wasn't the only one. Charlie at this point had completely lost it on John, out of nowhere she had pounced on him like a cat, and clung onto 'im until 'e eventually dropped to the ground. We were absolutely dumbfounded. Not once in my entire life knowing John had I ever seen a sight like this. He was on the ground with Charlie on top of 'im flailing 'er arms around trying to get a swing at 'im. Knowing John's track record, it was only a matter of time before 'e started swinging right back at 'er. I 'ad seen John 'it a gurl before, and I love 'aving Charlie around... we all love 'aving Charlie around, and the last thing I wanted was to 'ave John fuck everythin' up with his short-ass temper. It seemed as if the other guys thinking the same thing because we all instinctively rushed from our seats and began to pry her off of John._

_"I'm gunna kill 'em, I'm gunna kill 'em," she repeatedly screamed, while flailing around in my arms. I draped her over my shoulder and carried her down the hallway and into mine and George's hotel room. As we came through the door, she managed to weasel her way out of my grip and ran straight to the bathroom, and flung the door shut. I took a seat on the bed, as I 'eard 'er sobbing through the thin wooden door. I 'onestly didn't know why she was crying about it, I still thought she looked beautiful. Right as I was about to walk through that bathroom door to comfort 'er I 'eard a knock at the door. I swung the door open to reveal a familliar, pretty face that for some reason made me feel slightly guilty._

_"Paul!" she shouted and instantly wrapped 'er arms around me neck._

_"Jane, it's great to see you love," I 'ugged 'er back. I 'ad forgotten we 'ad planned to get together this night of the tour. She let go and then grabbed me by the 'and and began to drag me out of the 'otel room._

_"Come on Paulie, lets go to my room," I desperatly wanted to stay and make sure Charlie was alright, but it 'ad be such a longtime since spending the night with a young lady, my body was not going to let me pass this up. I spanked her lightley and while giggling, followed 'er back to 'er room.  
><em>

I stared into the mirror, but the face I saw back was utterly different. My eyes were stained red, from what I assumed was from crying, but the reefers probably made it look worse. And then there was my hair. My shoulders stood bare were at once my long curly locks sat, now replaced by a shaggy brown mop-top. I played around with it to try to get a look that I was somewhat content with. How could John do something like this? I knew John had a history of violating women's bodies, but this was far from what I had in mind. I began to wash my face when there was a knock on the bathroom door. It sent a sudden shock through my body, I became nervous, I looked horrible, and I prayed it wasn't John, I honestly didn't think I could talk to him right now. Another knock belted through the wood, I beckoned to its call and opened the door. And there stood in black fitted pants, and a white button shirt open ever so slightly to display his smooth, flat chest was George Harrison.

"Hey Charlotte," he simply said, looking at me with is deep brown eyes. I was so captivated by them, George just had this wonderful way of knowing exactly how you felt, and he knew precisely how to get you to a point of happiness again.

"You know, I quite like your 'air like that, you look very mod rocker," he said with a signature crooked grin, and ran his hand through my hair. My skin tingled at his very touch.

"So a 'mocker' then, would you say?" I giggled

"I always forget that you 'ave seen our movie in the future, we have planned to film a new one, you know. I think ya should be in it with me," George said in a manner that I assumed to be his way of flirting. Those butterflies began to arise within me again.

"You think so?" I playfully asked, and followed him out of the bathroom as he took a seat on his own bed, while I sat directly across from him on Paul's.

"Yeah, and show off yer new gear 'aircut," we both laughed as I covered my blushing face in my hands. After a few seconds of silence I felt him looking at me, and I looked up to see him intently fixed upon me, with a smile slowly progressing across his face.

"You kinda remind me of me friend Astrid, with your 'air like that, " he noted

"I don't know about that George, she was beautiful, like stunning," I said trying to muffle his compliment.

" She is yeah, but I think you are far more beautiful then 'er," he said. I was stunned, all I could do was just stare back into his ever intriguing eyes as they read my soul as if it were an open book. George Harrison thinks I am beautiful. A shockwave of a certain energy filled my body at just the thought. Every time something like this happend it always occurred to me that this whole thing could just be a dream, but as he started to lean towards me, I wished that if it was, I never wanted to wake up. He put a hand to my now bare neck and pulled my ever willing lips onto his. This was different from any other kiss I had ever had before. There was something special, a connection with someone, that had never been familiar to me until now. His mouth opened slightly breeding to the passion we shared for each other. As his breath poured into my own, I could taste the tobacco, and my mind instantly made visions of the dreaded 2001 headlines. Our mouths slowly drifted apart as tears started to pour down my face. I looked straight into his eyes, while I was completely sobbing at the thought that this could very well be the last moment I could experience with George, I could return as instantly as I arrived. Without question he picked me up and brought me over to his side of the bed in a tight embrace. He didn't say a single word, and he didn't have to. With no recollection of ceasing I just layed there in George Harrison's arms, and like his guitar, gently weeping.

I woke up that morning to the sound of a knock on the door, right where I last recalled. I felt a sigh of relief as George layed awake beside me. I kissed him on the cheek as a smile quickly spread across his face, and I went to go answer the door. I interrupted the second knock as I flung the door open to see none other than Mr. Starkey.

"GOOOOD MORNING" Ringo sang loudly filling out entire room, and I can imagine the entire hotel building with his impressively awake voice. George sighed at the disturbance and got out of bed. Ringo and I both had a laugh as he handed me a pile of clothes.

"And today's outfit is sponsored by Capitol Records." He in a booming radio voice.

"Thanks Richie," I laughed and walked into the bathroom to change.

By the afternoon, George and I, now joined by Ringo and Paul were just knocking' about the hotel room killing time before the next show. Ringo and I were dancing around to Georges guitar playing as we waited for Paul to finish sketching a 'surprise' picture for Ringo.

"Here Ye, here Ye. I do declare this masterpiece, FINISHED" Paul announced.

"Here," I pulled out my iPhone.

"Let's get this one on camera Paulie," Paul stood up and carried his picture over in front of me, and Ringo took his place beside him. I pressed record, and the magic began. I swung it 'round to George, giving this potential masterpiece quite a winning soundtrack. He smiled when he noticed I was filming him and then laughed as he glanced to his bandmates. I brought the camera back to their direction.

"Hey Ringo, I've done a painting of you and I thought you'd like it, it's of remarkable likeness,"

"Oh, that's wunderful Paul..."

"Do you really like it?"

"...I really like that one,"

"Will you buy it?"

"No"

"Okay Ringo," George said as Paul scampered off to find something else, and I tried my best not to laugh and ruin our small film. Paul came back, this time with an odd poster we had laying around.

"Ringo I've dun n'abstract!" Ringo did a very animated laugh,

"That's good!" he expressed.

" Iv'e dun... I've dun n'abstract"

"Good, Good, look at that," Ringo pointed to what could have possibly been a nose on the picture and we all laughed.

"I couldn't get the 'air good though,"

"No, it's lovely,"

"Incidental music by George Harrison," George chimed in with a smile. By this time Paul had taken a painting from the wall, which was the oddest of sorts. It was of four splotches with thin lines connecting them to the bottom of the frame.

"I've dun anuther one... since then," Ringo quickly bursted out laughing.

"Is that me?" Ringo asked pointing to the shortest of the blobs.

"No," 

"Oh it is'nt?"

"No, it's the married one,"

"Oohh, It's the married one."


	10. Dizzy Miss Lizzy

I had not yet awaken from this dream. This beautiful dream. I rolled up the sleeves to the oversized mens work shirt I was wearing and took another glance out the window. Everything looked so small from all the way up here, the Earth looked so manipulated, so used with the streets and buildings covering the once raw land. I mentioned this to George who was practically asleep upon my shoulder, he agreed and referred to it as an 'impractical realization.' Today was a big day, it was the first show of the big European tour. We had to wake up quite early this morning to board the plane in London to Paris. I looked over at Paul who was still upset over this mornings mishap with some of the local fans. Apparently the London airport security had turned away all the spectating fans by telling them the boys wanted them to stay away. Which for the most part was true, I know for a fact that George could do without them most of the time and John has been on edge lately from the constant battering. However, Paul was a little more patient and seemed to even enjoy the crowds of screaming fangirls, and I think for the most part he knew they would be in trouble if the fans found out about "the Beatles" sending them away. "The Beatles Hate Their Fans!" I imagine the next big headline will entail.

Personally, ever since the 'haircut' I have been getting less attention from the aggressive fans, and have been able to blend into the scene, worst part was of course the ever growing ego of John Lennon, took total claim of the success. We had also discussed that for the most part I would continue to wear Ringo's clothing particularly in front of the fans and the press. We thought it would be the best to keep myself as unrecognisable as possible, if in case certain photos were to arise again in my own time period. Again John's idea. I looked over at him leaning against his wife Cynthia's shoulder, out like a light. He had to do some television thing last night to plug his book, so of course after a grand ol' celebration he didn't end up getting much sleep. As I looked over Cynthia caught my eye and smiled an adoring smile as if saying "isn't he sweet?" gesturing at the sleeping man on her arm. I nodded back and smiled at her before breaking our gaze to stare vacantly out the window again. Jane and Maureen were also coming along, the sat closer to the back of the plane chatting. Though I had been getting along with The Beatles' wives and girlfriends there were always some questionable glances from them whenever I was talking or playing around with their man. Which made me feel extremely guilty, especially when it came to Cynthia and even more so of Pattie. I did have feelings for George, and I know he must feel something too but Pattie is a big part of his future, and his music. She was so stunning, her clothes, those doe eyes, and flowing blonde hair. Pattie was lovely. You could instantly understand why she was a top model. She was wearing a Foale and Tuffin pink crepe mini dress. It was one of the first minis I had seen since I had arrived to this time period. She was perfect for the mini with her long, thin legs. She also had beautiful, long blonde hair. She was more cute than beautiful but she was still in a whole other league to myself, with my cropped hair and curvy figure, make that a whole other realm. As days went on, I only began to fear that what I was influencing here could be altering the future of The Beatles, and even worse, I could never truly be with George, this was the last thought I remember before slowly dozing off.

I was awoken quite suddenly to a short and sweet clear of the throat.  
>"Ah, hemm" I jolted out of my quickened slumber to see Pattie Boyd standing in the isle looking quite annoyed. I quickly took notice to the fact that George had fallen asleep on my shoulder. I immediately nudged him off, then in which he awoke with a jolt.<p>

"Jesus George, now I'm gunna have to change into a whole new shirt!" I said jokingly angered.

"When, where and how can I be apart of this?" John Lennon poked his head between the space between mine and George's seats.

"Oh Lennon, how could you not be apart of that?" I sarcastically beamed in his direction, which he immediately sensed and tousled my own mop-top. As Pattie returned to her seat on the other side of George, he gave me a half-hearted smile, similar to the one I returned him. It was not that I didn't get along with Pattie, she was actually really fun and sweet a lot different from the other girls I have met here in '65. Let's just say Pattie Boyd was the last person I ever imagined myself getting along with, but I was pleasantly surprised. If it weren't for the colossal guilt I felt for kissing her future husband. The plane was beginning to land, so everyone who was casually standing about on the surprisely huge plane, for the 1960's that is, found a seat and buckled up. Even in my own time period I got serious headaches when landing, and was pleasantly disappointed to see that it was a quality that hadn't disappeared, even more proof for myself to banish the idea that I was dreaming. I closed my eyes and gripped the armrests tightly breathing slowly whispering the Hare Krshna mantra to myself to clear my state of mind.

"You feelin' alright Char?" George asked sounding quite concerned.

"Did you want some water, or something? Pattie offered.

"Thanks, no, I'm alright, I just get bad airplane head trauma," I explain, a chuckle escaped through the corner of George's signature side smile.

"It's alright now, love," spoke the posh accent of Brian Epstein who was sitting in the seat directly behind me.

"Grab my hand now love," he brought it up beside me and I took and I grasped it until the plane had made the landing. Brian and I had become quite close over the month or so I had been here, mostly because we had spent so much time together backstage or during press events., and frankly he was just a good bloke. I constantly tried to put out of my mind the tragedy that would ensue in only two years time. I quite often pondered if I could stop it from happening, or if it was best to just let it be.

We finally arrived at the Paris-Orly airport at 9.55am and were taken to the George V hotel. Around 50 fans were waiting at the hotel for the boys, which Paul said was far fewer from their previous visit. We did our best to make it into the hotel as quickly and unharmed as possible. Normal people account for traffic when planning to be punctual, however we have to work around the fans. Brian usually makes sure we have an hour to spare to maneuver the boys through the riots of fans. Before we knew it we were back on the bus headed to the first gig of the tour. Pattie and Cynthia stayed back at the hotel due to exhaustion from the flight, and I totally understood why they wanted the peace and quiet, it had been nothing but screaming the whole day from fans, and Lennon. The boys played two concerts today at the Palais des Sports, at 3pm and 9pm, each of which was seen by 6,000 people. The boys played their new European setlist that we had all made suggestions for, and it was truly a brilliant show. They played; Twist And Shout, She's A Woman, I'm A Loser, Can't Buy Me Love, Baby's In Black, I Wanna Be Your Man, A Hard Day's Night, Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby, Rock And Roll Music, I Feel Fine, Ticket To Ride and Long Tall Sally, which to this day is one of my favourites tracks Paul does. I had told him this before when we were picking songs for the playlist one afternoon. So before they started the tune, he charmingly dedicated it to me with a wink, before belting out the Little Richard hit. Brian looked annoyed at his adorable gesture.

"Make sure to thank if you end up in the ward tonight." I smiled to myself as he pointed to a group of Paul's lady fans whose eyes were burning in my direction. I stepped a little closer to Brian. We all gathered backstage at the end of the show. John had been calling people on a payphone trying to get people together to celebrate the kick off of the tour, while Brian gave Paul a stern talk about the attention he had caused around me, I sat around with Ritchie and George, we were knocking about on guitars, passing around a reefer waiting for security so we could leave the venue. John suddenly was skipping towards us in a gleeful whim.

"A mate of mine wants to have us over to celebaratte!"

"Tonight?" Paul asked as he joined us, sitting on a crate next to me.

"Yes Paulie, my mate Dr. Robert wants to have us to tea!"

"That dentist bloke? First of all it's past 9, and I'm not a fan of the guy John..." Paul questioned.

"Well then you don't 'ave to fuckin' come then, do ya McCartney?"

"Yeah, well I'm not, I promised Jane I would spend tonight with 'er back at the 'otel."

"Ringo!?" John questioned gesturing towards the drummer."

"No thanks John, I actually like to spend time with my wife," he chuckled. John shot Ringo that freaky John Lennon look that no photograph I had ever seen pictured. He quickly silenced his laughter.

"Georgey boy?" George looked at me, I smiled back at him.

"I'll come along, I suppose," George said sounding rather unimpressed.

"Brilliant, it shall be the Thrab Three tonight!" John loudly declared. He tightly grabbed my hand and pulled me off the crate. I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy his bluntness, it was so... him.

"John there is no way I am letting you take her on one of your little outings," Brian finally chimed in. However, there was something inside me that desperately wanted to go with him, I wanted to meet Dr. Robert. 


	11. You've Got To Hide Your Love Away

The three of us sat in the back of Neil's car as he drove us back to the hotel. John got all bent out of shape after Ringo's comment and decided he should take Cynthia along to the doctors house. I would only assume that also meant Pattie would be coming and I would be fifth wheeling it, as always. We pulled up to the hotel car park and John jumped out of the vehicle to collect his wife.

We also had gotten out, George had offered to drive to the party so switched into his mini.

"This should be an interesting night I can imagine, this Doctor Riley guy is a rather strange bloke." George said.

"How do you guys know him?" I asked

"Well, he has been Pattie's dentist and then 'e became all our dentist, and last time we saw him, he asked us over to 'is place here for tea and then we would go out or something."

I looked out the window of the car to see John and Cynthia walking over, I turned to George.

"Is Pattie not coming with us?" He smirked and leaned in closer to me.

"I thought it would be maybe fun just the four of us," he jested while looking deeply into my eyes, all I could do was nod as John and Cynthia got in and we rode away.

We ended up in quite a posh area in the outer end of Paris. As the car pulled up to the drive, I looked over a Cyn, with a weary look in my eye as George pulled me by the hand, out of the car. Apart of me felt terrible, I loved spending time with George like this but I didn't want to interfere with their lives and future. However, the other part of me just told myself that George and Pattie didn't work out anyway, and that I would just be saving them future heartbreak. John knocked on the door, which was returned by the immediate opening of it.

"Welcome Sirs," said the man at the door, who I assumed was Dr. Riley. He had a long lanky body covered in long black trousers and a tight dark turtleneck, with a thin strip of a moustache on his upper lip. He welcomed us into his home and asked us to take a seat around his large dining table situated in the middle of a rather dark room. We all casually conversed with the man, and if George hadn't had been beside me constantly smiling in my direction I would have been quite uncomfortable in the company of this strange doctor. We all introduced ourselves to his wife as she brought in some pastries and cakes. She was quite an eloquent woman, will pinned up brown hair, but similarly to the doctor something seemed off about her. We sat and chatted for a while, and to my own delight John suggested the it was time for us to leave. Without hesitation we started to shuffle out of the detailed wooden chairs we had been sitting on.

"Please! Stay for coffee!" suggested.

"Thanks mister, but I think we got to be going. our manager will be expecting us soon," George cleverly exaggerated.

"Please," he pleaded. "My wife made it special,"

We all looked around at each other, and somehow came to the conclusion that we would stay for one more drink. His wife came out with a tray of six cups already poured and put them in front of us. She then returned by her husbands side and graciously looked at us to drink. Something seemed terribly odd. I turned to George who was looking rather distressed while sipping at the coffee, as he noticed my glare he winked ever so slightly. I blushed and turned back to my own drink. Quite hesitant, I took a sip from the mug. Right as the warm beverage reached my lips, a sudden worry shot through me that it was possible that these people had just poisoned us. After we finished the drinks, George had gotten up and said we needed to go.

"Leave your car, I'll drive," Dr. Riley suggested. George got up and pulled his keys out protesting that he would drive. So John, Cynthia and I got into George's mini and drove off to the nightclub. Dr. Riley was following behind us in his own car. I remember I had become quite anxious about the situation and kept asking everyone if he was chasing us or trying to stalk us.

We had finally gotten to the nightclub, in a duration of time that felt like eternity. It was at that point were he had realized we were all in hysterics, and Dr. Riley had finally confessed to us that he had gotten Lysergic acid diethylamide and put it in our drinks. We had gotten onto the lift to get to the club, and we could have sworn there was a fire! John and I were screaming 'Fire! Fire" while Cynthia clung to his side, trying to shield herself from the flames. George looked so frightened, we all were.

Finally the doors of the lift opened and we all screamed again, we were absolutely crackers as I remember John said recalling us at the scene. This is where things are foggy for me. We either went out for dinner or went to the dance club first. I think we might of had dinner first, which was frantic. I can only imagine what the waiter would have thought.

We finally ended up in the night club. The lights the music, it was all surreal. I remember having the time of my life for a while there, dancing with George amongst a large group of people flailing about and making a lot of noise, noise that was somehow inaudible to me. I remember being scared that night.

I don't remember all of it. Just in pieces. I was in a smaller room, off of the dance floor. The music still overwhelmingly loud. I remember I was still dancing as he moved his hands up and down my body. I remember feeling the bass, like a heartbeat pulsing through me as he backed me up against the wall.

" Where is Cyn?"

"She's probably in the bathroom love, it's okay, just relax,"

"John¦", I gasped. He grabbed me, and began press his fingers up against my most sensitive area. I tried to wiggle free of his hold, but part of me was giving in to his touch.

"John," I said again, this time it came out more as a whisper as he began to rub me a little more. As he continued pressing his fingers in all the right places, he started kissing and nibbling at my neck. I could hardly take it, the warmth of his breath and the pleasure I was feeling was becoming overwhelming, however the sense of guilt I was feeling growing just the same. I took my hands and forcefully grabbed both sides of John's face so he was looking me straight in the eyes.

"John you need to stop," His hand fell from between my legs, as he slowly nodded, as if in some trance. I nodded and began to walk past him back to t the dance floor, but he just clung to me like a scared child. Almost sobbing into my shoulder, whispering "sorry" "sorry" over and over again.

"Come on John, let's go home."

I managed to find George in the crowd, took him aside and said we better be going, we did have a press day tomorrow. He agreed and took my hand. After collecting Dr. Riley and the Lennon's, we left the club and George drove home in Dr. Riley's car. We were all screaming as George drove down the darkened street, it felt so fast, however we eventually learned he was only driving about ten mph. We all piled out of the car as George handed Riley the keys. Not a word was said. George kissed me on the cheek, took my hand and we walked back into the hotel.


	12. My Valentine

Feb 14th. 2014

I slowly sipped my cappuccino as he starred back at me with those brown eyes that I knew way to well. We sat by the window, I looked out at the streets of Manhattan, as he spoke to me with his posh London accent, words I wasn't quite ready to hear.

"Char, I would really like it if we could move in together," In silence I took another sip of my cappuccino.

"Char, it's just that we have been seeing each other for almost two years now, and I'm really ready to take this step with you." He said nervously while running his hands through his dark brown hair.

"Dhani, I love you, I do, I just don't really know if I'm ready for that quite yet, you know? You know how busy I have been with work after Paulie gave me that promotion,"

He began to look slightly annoyed by the mention of Paul.

"...and I think it's just bad timing thats all, you know what they say about moving being stressful and such." I continued.

"Yeah, I know," Dhani said as disappointment spread across his face. I felt terrible about it, but I just wasn't ready for this commitment.

"I will think about it," I sighed. A wide smile grew wiping away all disapointment that was just shorty upon his face, I smiled back and took his hand. He brought my hand up to his lips and gently kissed it.

"Happy Valentine's Day my love," he said while stretching across the table to meet my lips with his. I smiled warmly in his direction, before the rumble of my iPhone dispirited the mood. I checked the screen lit up on the table, the message said;

"Charlie, I just got in the city, I would love to see you ASAP, and chat and such, got a bit of a surprise for you love, send me the word and I can swing by and swoop you up, - Paul," I silently giggled. I was ecstatic to see Paul again, he had been back in London for the last month or so.

"Is that Paul then?" Dhani asked bringing me back to reality.

"Yeah, he said he just got into Manhattan, and has something urgent to tell me," I said slowly looking down, trying to avoid his dark eyes. Ever since Paul had hired me to be his assistant we had been spending a lot of time together and Dhani has been quite resentful towards him for it.

"So are you going to meet with him soon then?" he asked with a seemingly hostile undertone.

" I probably should soon, but today is ours Dhani," I intertwined my fingers with his and we left the cafe and into his car. The sun had finally set, and we got into my pepper white MINI Cooper and drove to my loft in West Midtown. My place was decorated quite oddly some may think, some interesting pieces of furniture, with detailed patterns and some antique wood pieces. I always made sure to have fresh flowers throughout my house, it was something George had told me was important, and it reminded me of him, so I did. I got another text message from Paul.

"Charlie, I am coming by your place at midnight, I'll be in the lobby, see you soon love - Paul." That's one thing that hadn't changed about Paul, I have always been amused by his persistence.

After some wine, Dhani and I had taken to the bed room to make love. I loved being close to him like that, but apart of me always wondered if it was him I loved or the familiarity of it all. After we just held each other, I looked up into those perfectly deep, dark eyes, and he looked into mine.

"I love you Charlotte Abbey," he whispered in drowsiness.

" I love you Dhani Harrison," I kissed him.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom to clean up a bit okay?" he slowly nodded and I knew it wouldn't be long before he was asleep.

I grabbed my clothes from my side of the bed and brought them quietly into the bathroom. I checked the time, just passed eleven-forty. I cleaned myself up, tidied my short blonde hair, and put my clothes back on. By the time I left the bathroom, as I suspected, Dhani was fast asleep. I grabbed my phone, keys and my jacket, and quietly locked the door and made down the hallway.

As I got out of the elevator I saw him. Standing alone in the empty lobby, aside from a security worker. It was rare to see him alone in public like this, without being surrounded and hounded by fans, something that never seemed to phase him but had certainly got on my nerves. There he was, in dark trousers with a clean white collared shirt. His brown hair in a whimsical mess. He finally caught my stare and immediately smiled and held out his arms. Without even thinking I ran and flung myself in his arms. He made a gasp at my swift contact. I giggled while he still held me in his arms.

" I keep forgetting you're so old!" I said beaming up at him.

"Now, now you cheeky thing, that's no way to speak to the frail and elderly," he retorted jokingly, as he squeezed me even tighter to punish me for my remark.

"P..aul...ie," I managed to spit out while in his tight grip. He let go with a laugh.

"Aw, look at you," He put his hands on either side of cheeks.

"You don't look a day older than when we first met," he said with a wink.

...

After catching up in the car ride over, we arrived to his place in midtown. His appartment was just gorgeous, utterly elegant and simple, it suited him quite well. I had been here numerous of times, it felt like home.

"Sit, sit, can I get you anything?" he asked

"I'm fine, are you having anything?" I asked back.

"I was going to open a bottle of wine, if you wanted some also,"

"Yeah let's do it," I agreed.

After we finished the bottle we were both quite tipsy, and couldn't stop laughing. I was so happy that I could still see Paul, we had gotten so much closer than we had ever been, and I could tell that he was really glad to have me back in his life. Though it seemed like he never left mine, he lived most of his life without me in his.

We were now sitting quite close to each other, I leaned on his arm as I was getting quite sleepy.

"Charlie, can I play you something, I want to see what you think."

"Yeah of course." He went back into another room to grab his Epiphone acoustic. After he came back and returned to his seat next to me and began to play.

_What if it rained?_

_We didn't care_

_She said that someday soon_

_The sun was gonna shine._

_And she was right, _

_This love of mine, _

_My valentine_

_As days and nights, _

_Would pass me by_

_I tell myself that I was waiting for a sign_

_Then she appeared, _

_A love so fine, _

_My valentine_

_And I will love her for life_

_And I will never let a day go by_

_Without remembering the reasons why_

_She makes me certain_

_That I can fly_

_And so I do, _

_Without a care_

_I know that someday soon the sun is gonna shine_

_And she'll be there_

_This love of mine_

_My valentine_

The lyrics immediately took me back to that day.


	13. If I Needed Someone

Wednesday, 9 November 1966 - Abbey Road Studios, Abbey Road, London

Today had been a long day.

The rain fell hard from the sky all day, and the forecast said it wouldn't quit until tomorrow. I sat on the floor with one of the studio's thick carpets underneath me. It had been over a year since I woke from it in 1965. It was then when I left my regular life and time period to live a life of Beatlemania with the Fab Four themselves. Though I was living the life I had only dreamed about, I found myself frequently missing home and my family and friends, and wondering if they were worried about me, or if they were even aware of my disappearance. For instances what were the rules here? Had a year past in my time too? Was I changing the future to come? My own time period? I wasn't the only one thinking about this, John was very interested in the philosophy of my existence in their own timelines, he found it a pleasing distraction to figure out if there was a way to help get me back. In my own mind I knew I wanted to stay with them, but I did feel guilty leaving my parents and friends behind. This other part of me wants to find out why I'm here, there must be a reason, I didn't choose to be here. That album brought me here.

I sat with my back against the wall, with George leaning against me yawning. Paul sat on a stool thoughtlessly messing about on his guitar in a daydream, while Ringo sat behind his drum set practicing a few scattered beats. It was almost two in the morning and we were still waiting for John, who had promised his arrival approximately three hours ago. As I said, it had been a long day.

As the mania progressed, the pressure and constant attention from fans and the media left the boys exhausted, and it was really taking it's tole on them and their relationships with each other. I found myself having to act as a mediator for the group as time went on, but I found even myself growing tired of this lifestyle along side them. Brian had also become very aware of this, and it frightened him greatly to think the successes he once craved for the band was now actually putting them in harm. Just this morning we had a meeting with him and the boys flat out told him they didn't want to go on tour anymore. Between the screams of the fans and the crowds, they had emotionally and musically checked out for the last few months. I for one hated being on tour. So when I heard Brian agreed to their request to stop touring I was as delighted as I was surprised by his compliance. He must of realized as I had, if this craziness continued the boys sanity would be at risk. As I said, today had been long.

This morning Brian decided if the boys were going to stop touring then they needed to get into the studio as soon as possible. We had all agreed tonight would be the night to come up with something in the studio for the next LP. I enjoyed working in the studio with the boys. The first time I was in the studio with them was during the production of Revolver, evidently one of my favourite albums. At first they had expected me to teach them there own songs, or basically re-teach them their songs from the future, but it wasn't long before they realized I wouldn't dare tell them. It was so interesting to see how perfectly and naturally everything was unfolding in this time period. Everything except one thing. Pattie and George were not married. If things were going completely according to my time, they should have been by now. Yet here lies George on my arm without a care in the world and because of me Pattie Boyd is somewhere in the world without an engagement ring on her pretty little finger. Since that night he ditched her to go to the club with John, Cyn and I, she had been taking a particular notice to all the time and attention George had been spending on me.

George and I had become quite inseparable. We had beautiful conversations about life, religion and music. George at the moment was very deeply interested in learning the sitar, any free moment he had he would be doing finger warm ups and going over and over things Ravi had showed him. It was quite marvelous to see his development though my own eyes. George desired my company, as I did his. He highly viewed my opinions and philosophy, even in my own time I had never felt such energy with someone, we just thought, breathed and existed on the same wavelength. George especially marveled at my knowledge of his future. When I first arrived here in 1965 I had fully decided that I would not tell anybody anything about their future, but as George and I got to know each other I started to open up to him more about things from my time. However it wasn't until March of this year I had told him what he really wanted to know.

Thursday 24 March 1966 - Haymarket Theatre, Great Suffolk Street, London

I smiled politely at fans and photographers as we entered the car from the red carpet. I had accompanied the boys along with their girlfriends and wives, Cyn Mo, Jane and Pattie to the premier of the film Alfie. Jane had a small role in it, and had asked if we would all go. We happily agreed, and Brian came along too seeing this as a good press opportunity as earlier this month John had made his "Beatles are bigger than Jesus" comment and figured they needed the good press. I hung off of Brian's arm for most of the night, according to the press we had practically become an item. Surprisingly enough he didn't mind the publicity, he almost even preferred it, as he was trying to keep his sexuality as private as he could. It also took a lot of the pressure off me from the fans, as I was no longer viewed as a threat to be romantically involved with one of their precious Beatles. However Pattie didn't see it that way. She hadn't said a word to me all night, and would rarely even look in my direction unless it was to bestow one of her charming dirty looks. Her and George were engaged and she didn't want me anywhere near the man. He had already convinced her to post-pone the marriage claiming he was to overwhelmed with the band or that his was still searching for consciousness or that he was focussing on writing. I suppose all were true, but it seemed to me that he was rethinking this proposal. I got in the limo after John and Cyn Ringo and Mo and Paul and Jane got in quickly after me to separate me from Pattie. As the limo each drove everyone to there houses we would chat, Mo and Jane trying desperately to keep conversation between the girls lively and simple as to not start anything that might cause any confrontation between Pattie and I. We mostly talked about the premier and congratulated and complemented Jane about her performance in the film. As we finally got into Weybridge to drop off John, Ringo and George who lived in this area with their families. But John Lennon could never keep well alone, and as getting out of the vehicle with Cynthia to their mock Tudor house on top of a hill. John and Cyn waved, and then John glanced at me through the car window,

" We'll see you at the shoot tomorrow love," and took Cynthia by the hand and quietly walked off, knowing quite well what he had started.

"She's going to the photo shoot tomorrow?" Pattie quickly snapped at George.

"You said it was private," she continued.

" It is private, Brian has her scheduled to take care of the photographer," George calmly answered in a tone that greatly contrasted her agitated one.

" I don't understand how you think that is private then?" she shrilled.

I sunk back low in my seat as George tried to talk Pattie down. I always knew if she was actually aware of how much time I did spend with the boys she would be not be happy.

After an uncomfortable limo ride to George's, they both got out. George said his goodbyes and thanked Jane, while Pattie, in a huff quickly got out of the vehicle intentionally trying to walk at least a foot in front of him to the front door. George smiled and waved softly to me before closing the limo door.

After dropping off Ringo, George and John in Weybridge, the limo took Paul, Jane and I back to London. As my time here went one, it was becoming inconvenient to keep staying in hotels, so being that Paul was the only one not living with his girlfriend, or wife, he asked that I stay with him. He had few bedrooms, so I took one. It was fun, Paul and I got along really well as roommates and that had flourished our very close friendship. Mostly when Jane wasn't around we would stay up most of the night and talk or get high and listen to records. As we got in our place, Jane and Paul be-lined it to his bedroom, and as it was quite late I decided to hit mine as well.

I stripped down from my posh dress and my undergarments. Quickly turned out the light and scurried to the comforts and privacy of my bed. I wrapped myself up in my blankets and drifted off to sleep.

I woke up softly to darkness. I looked swiftly at my clock. 3:35. As I turned to reacquaint my head with my pillow, I became aware of a figure sitting on my bed in front of me and shrieked.

"Charlotte ssssshhhhhhhh!" the familiar voice whispered. It was George.

"George!" I exclaimed in a whisper.

" What are you doing here! I have nothing on right now..." he cut me off

"It doesn't work out between me and Pattie does it? Ye know? In your future?" he asked me almost lacking emotion, as if he really knew the answer. I couldn't help but let out a little breathy laugh before I had time to catch myself.

" No, no it doesn't," I frankly replied. I didn't usually let information out like this to the boys from their future, but I was being selfish. I wanted George.

" 'ow did it 'appen? Our break up n'all?" he more interestingly asked.

"From what I know she left you for one of your best mates," George gestured as to suggest on of his bandmates,"

"No, no one from the band, I think it was complicated," George scooted over closer to me on the bed as he was swept up in his own curiosity, as I brought my blankets closure towards me in efforts of keeping my naked self covered.

"''ow complicated?" he questioned.

"Well..." I sighed.

"I think you and Pattie were participating in activities what some might describe as 'swinging' and I guess they just fell in love." he sat in silence for what felt like a while, looking down at his hands sitting in his lap.

"''ow did I take it?" he asked,

"I don't know, you still seemed to be friendly with them, well him at least," I laughed,

" Wait, you know that I didn't actually know you?," I questioned him, and we both laughed.

" 'ow long did it last, Pattie and I?" he questioned.

"Long, you guys were married for a while, but you found someone even better in then end." At first I was proud of what I said, until I realized my choice of wording.

"I'm sorry George," I said sympathetically. He chuckled and looked at me grinning.

"That's quite alright," he assured and I smiled back at him, hoping that hadn't understood my nature of my particular phrasing. But to my demise he looked straight into my eyes with his dark stare. Looking into them was like gazing into the night sky, they just seemed to go on forever.

" I'm not alive at the time that you are from am I?" he said straight, not breaking our stare.

"George, I can't..." he cut me off by grabbing my hand in his and slowly intertwined his fingers with mine. I was speechless.

"I need to know 'were your mind is, is that why y'started crying the last time I tried to kiss ya?

"George your not suppose to know this," I said losing my battle fighting off my tears.

"Then you better love me while you can," he said with a smile. I chuckled and smiled back to him as a feeling of dread quickly came over me. I felt like I had done something wrong by telling him, but as I started to feel it, I looked into his eyes. We gazed again at each other and at that point I knew exactly what he meant. I shouldn't have this dread about losing George, I should just be enjoying the time I have with him. I know he is going to die, I know John is going to die. Fuck, I know Paul, Ringo and I will die. That's the thing about life, it doesn't matter if you know when your going to die if you live your life as full as you can each day. George knew this, that's why I could tell him, because it didn't matter if he died now or 35 years from now, he understood that. He wanted to live for now, and here he was, asking me to love him. I wonder if he knew I already did.

He ran his fingers through my short hair and gently kissed my forehead.

"Can we try this again?" he asked with a reassuring smile. I nodded. At that moment our lips met at a pace that seemed to be smooth and frantic all at once. As our lips parted to let in more of each other, George's hands moved feverishly through my hair and down my bare back as mine slowly moved up his toned chest. So caught up in everything that was George I was completely unaware of the blankets absence that had at one point been covering my nakedness. Now fully exposed to George in the darkness I clung to him as if I was possessed to never let him go.


End file.
